


or maybe it’s you

by hevans814



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Best Friends, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I wrote and edited this in like two hours, I’m too tired to think, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Teasing, hand centric, hand holding, i guess lol, it’s literally just about hand holding, probs ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hevans814/pseuds/hevans814
Summary: He decided it was probably important to give some explanation as to why he was kind of affectionately holding his best friend’s hand.“Your hand’s not that much bigger than mine.”Perfect damage control.Dream’s confusion settled into a different confusion entirely, and he smiled, but seemed a little suspicious.“...Oh really, George?” Dream said, “What, you wanna measure our hands, like we’re in middle school?”
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 231





	or maybe it’s you

**Author's Note:**

> started writing a completely different scene, got overly focused on hand holding, bon appetite
> 
> (this is persona fiction, and if irls are ever uncomfortable with it, it’s gone lol)

Maybe it was the hand, the hand which he was maybe imagining on his jaw, gently, or maybe in his own hand, the hand he was staring at quite obviously (if only the hand’s owner saw!). It must be the hand, the one softly tapping on the armrest of the couch, right in his sightline, as if perfectly positioned, gracefully _there_ , so fully tying him to this moment, and so totally belonging to Dream, so, clearly, this was forbidden looking.

Maybe it was the hand. Surely, it was.

 _Hand_ , George’s mind echoed as he watched the gentle tapping, eyes following up the arm (maybe it was the arms—strong), shoulders (shoulders?), nope, can’t look at his face, abort, look around the room, the tv’s still playing that movie, and from the corner of his eye, he could see that Dream was still watching the tv, a little crease to his eyebrow, which meant he was thinking intently. George glanced over a few more times, just to look at his nice profile (profile?).

George realized he was fidgeting, and in an attempt to get comfortable, he kicked his leg out under his blanket, accidentally close to Dream’s socks. Dream looked down briefly at the movement, and George made a big show of rustling and adjusting the blanket before sinking back into the couch lazily.

Dream glanced over with a slight shake of the head, a little eye roll, and a smile before returning to the tv. He stretched his arms and legs out like a cat before relaxing into his spot on the couch again. This time, a hand fell palm down on the middle couch cushion, on the edge of George’s blanket. George studied it, but also tried to look like he wasn’t doing that.

 _He’s got Minecraft hands_ , George thought nonsensically, trying to find some sort of thread within the hazy mess of thoughts inside his head. It was late, even for them, and he was tired. He had long since stopped paying attention to the movie. Now it was just odd thoughts about hands. Hands good at playing Minecraft.

Suddenly, randomly, George felt himself reaching for the hand, felt _his_ hand reaching through the air as if in slow motion, uncontrolled by whatever parts of his brain were working, and then there he was, picking up Dream’s hand.

He looked at Dream, and an explanation felt necessary, but it seemed too late, or almost too late for one.

George held off for a moment, though—took in Dream’s confusion, tried not to smile. George hoped his face didn’t, like, flush or something. Surely it would be too dark to tell if it did.

He simply let himself hold the hand for just a second before having to think of some reason _why_. Dream’s hand was heavy, palm resting loosely but a bit awkwardly on his own.

George liked it quite a lot.

Finally, he decided it was probably important to give some explanation as to why he was kind of affectionately holding his best friend’s hand.

“Your hand’s not that much bigger than mine.”

Perfect damage control.

Dream’s confusion settled into a different confusion entirely, and he smiled, but seemed to look a little suspicious.

“...Oh really, George?” Dream said, and he probably saw right through the excuse. “What, you wanna _measure_ our hands, like we’re in middle school?”

Ok, yep, Dream had seen through the excuse. And probably worse—George vaguely remembered pulling something similar in year eight, asking a crush to hold up a hand so that they could ‘measure’ palms—it was really just an excuse to nearly hold hands.

Whatever.

“I’m just interested in hands, or something,” George said lazily, and let Dream sit with that.

“Oh really,” Dream raised his eyebrows.

“Not in a weird way.” George left it at that.

But—hold on—he didn’t leave it at that. Once again as if he wasn’t the one running the show, he felt himself lift Dream’s hand up to his face, first just looking at it, but oh, then he was leaning in, and he was placing a gentle kiss on Dream’s fingers.

Ok, there was little coming back from that.

“Woah,” breathed Dream, but this information was barely processed.

Realizing what he had done, George set Dream’s hand back down on the couch and refused to look anywhere near Dream.

“So that was nice,” Dream said, leaning toward George, _teasing_ , probably grinning, absolutely and completely not going through whatever George was.

“Whatever,” George said, and it was supposed to be as nonchalant as Dream’s response, but came out kind of cross instead. It didn’t help that George could definitely feel his cheeks burn now. He surreptitiously placed his palms on his face to cool the skin.

“Hey. George.”

George could hear the smile on Dream’s face, and wanted nothing to do with it.

“What,” he said, fully deadpan.

“Look at me.”

“Why?”

Dream didn’t answer, probably figuring (correctly) it would have been a waste of time to needle at George and test his stubbornness. Instead, he moved ever so slightly closer to George and gently pulled at his wrists, moving his hands away from his face. George looked up, and caught Dream smiling, looking away. He let one of George’s hands fall, and laced his fingers through the other hand carefully, resting their now definitely hand-holding hands on the blanket next to George’s knee.

George instinctively squeezed Dream’s hand, and he received a gentle squeeze in return. George felt his heart warm, and he smiled into the blanket.

Maybe it was Dream’s hand that George liked. But as Dream kept hold of his hand, long past the movie’s end, and a second movie, long past any rational opportunity to get up and detach their fingers, as George drifted off to sleep there on the couch, arms instinctively curling around Dream’s, he let himself realize that maybe it was just Dream that he liked.

**Author's Note:**

> dream be like: this dude really trying to flirt by measuring our hands in 2021 smh
> 
> did you all pull stuff like this in middle school? I know it was considered top tier flirting back in like sixth grade lol. 
> 
> I listened to mitski’s me and my husband, mother mother’s oh ana and burning pile, and glass animal’s waterfalls coming out your mouth and life itself, so you know this was a CHAOTIC writing sesh.
> 
> my goal was to write something spicy in like 500 or so words. for some reason, I now have this. it’s not spicy? or 500 words? idk,,,
> 
> anyways, thank you for reading :] 
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter @hannahexx or on twitch @hannahex


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